Chapter 163 163: Unkillable Roach!
Reginald's body collapsed heavily onto the ground.
A stunned silence followed. There was no sound, not even oohs or gasps. It was as if everyone held their breath to avoid being the next target.
Keith slowly lowered his arm, and held it in the other. His body still buzzed with electricity, making him appear unstable.
The silence lingered. Nobody seemed certain if the match was truly over.
All eyes shifted to Reginald's fallen body then back at Keith's figure that no longer crackled with electricity.
Then the cheers erupted, shaking the arena.
"WHAT THE HELL!"
"THAT WAS INSANE! IS HE WORLD ORDER HIMSELF?!"
"HE TURNED HIMSELF INTO THE ATTACK!"
"I SWEAR THESE OLPHA REGION GUYS ARE INSANE!"
Awe spread through the crowd.
The lightning surrounding Keith had not completely disappeared. Small streaks still crawled across his body. He stared down at his hands and sighed.
The crowd couldn't help but stare at him as he walked back to his starting position.
He looked less like a young Warden and more like a walking embodiment of lightning. Like a living lightning pole.
Even the older Wardens wore shocked expressions as they calmly returned to their seats.
Beside Killian, Evelyn stared at the arena. "Wow." That was all she managed to say.
She nudged Killian for a reaction but his expression didn't change. His brows remained furrowed and his eyes locked in on his brother. He watched Keith tilt to one side and keep his hands behind him.
"You look worried. Why?" Evelyn asked. "Wouldn't you have wanted your brother to win over Reginald?"
Killian's gaze remained on Keith. "I don't care who wins. Just that it must've hurt."
Evelyn blinked, then turned to Reginald's body on the ground. "Of course it did. Reginald practically passed out."
She glanced at Killian who still had his worried expression. "Do you feel bad for Reginald? I don't even know how many volts entered his body?"
"Exactly," Killian sighed, shaking his head. "It must've hurt for Keith to discharge that amount."
Evelyn's eyes widened slightly, realizing who Killian's worth was for. She looked back at the arena and wondered why the attacker that was still standing was being pitied, and not the one fallen.
Then she noticed Keith's hands hidden behind his back but could be seen by those who cared to look.
The skin of his palm had torn in several places. Blisters covered the marks on his palm and red patches from burn were visible on his fingers.
Evelyn relaxed on her seat. Even the lightning pole wasn't left untouched by the lightning. After all, his body had been the source of the attack.
"There is only so much having an affinity to Lightning can give." She muttered watching the boy breathe in and out heavily. His hand reached to hold the railings of the arena.
The cheering from the crowd continued.
Keith managed to remain standing for only a second longer, before his eyes rolled back.
His legs buckled and he crashed onto the ground.
The arena became silent instantly.
Evelyn kept watching him as she now understood what he meant. From the corners of her eyes, she noticed Killian look away.
Within the arena, Keith laid on his back, hyperventilating while flexing his fingers in a bid to remove the remaining traces of lightning bursting in his veins.
The attack had landed, and it worked but the cost had to follow. The cost of embodying lightning with no prior skills nor training.
A sudden sound broke the silence.
"Hah..."
Reginald rolled onto his side weakly. He slowly raised his hands to the ceiling before letting it drop limply beside him.
A rough, painful laughter erupted from him, alarming several people in the crowd.
There were whispers that his brain was fried, and the continuous laughter that grew unhinged per beat made them even more unconvinced.
As his body shook slightly while he laughed, some parts appeared limp.
Reginald's laughter died to a deep sigh. Slowly and carefully, wind gathered beneath him.
The currents carried him upward, positioning his feet to touch the ground again.
While barely on his feet, his body swayed, and he grabbed the rails of the arena for support.
His breathing came in steady breaths with veins bulging across his face. Yet his eyes remained fixed on Keith.
Then a grin grew on his face. "That was a good one." His voice sounded hoarse. "I actually felt that one, and it hurt like crazy."
The crowd stared at the arena, glued to it like it was no longer a match but a dark fantasy film masterpiece, and an unkillable roach had risen again.
Reginald laughed again.
"It is better than the last one by far." His grin widened. "But again, I have experienced worse."
His gaze shifted to the Match Coordinator, who still stood there with the orange flag raised.
The man looked at both boys with visible pity. He could already tell from experience. It would be an endless battle of wits and fatal attacks the boys will engage in until one falls.
The coordinator glanced at Keith who was forcing himself up despite his shaky hands. Reginald followed the man's gaze.
He smirked. "I should use my orange flag now."
His eyes followed Keith as he stood on his feet. Reginald's mind raced with possibilities.
He knew better than to move around after Keith charged the ground with his lightning.
Physical punches were already out of the question since his opponent was a living lightning rod.
Long range attacks were the only option but they easily dispersed when they got close to his opponent's charged atmosphere.
He sighed, brushing under his jaw. "I just have to use my specials. No hard feelings, I'm sure. You nearly killed me just now."
"I only repaid the favor," Keith answered, and weakly raised his injured elbow.
His words made Reginald raise a brow because as far as he remembered a lightning javelin charging to his chest was the reason he wanted to break his arm in the first place. Not end his life. He nodded, understanding perfectly.
After hearing how his older brother left a man's dead body in a school training area with eye sockets gone, he wouldn't expect his younger twin to be any less unhinged.
"Let's continue attacking each other."
A body of wind grew like a shield in front of Reginald, elongating towards the left and right ends of the arena. The translucent blue shield stopped growing after rising above Reginald's height.
"Spikes for Bikes," he muttered under his breath.
He balled his right fist and slammed against the shield, pushing the breeze forward.